The Most Famous Illegal Goose Creek Parade by Virginia Smith Page B

I’m fine. I was just…surprised.”
    How embarrassing. She hadn’t even stepped foot through the door of her new clinic and already she’d caused a scene. Moving slowly, she stood and cast a cautious eye toward her attacker, who had stopped straining at the leash and now sat calmly watching her.
    â€œIt’s a Newfoundland.” She’d never seen one in person but knew about the big dogs, of course. Prone to medial carthal pocket syndrome due to the shape of the gigantic head, though this one showed no sign of the eye condition. Also prone to hip dysplasia, like all large breeds. Judging by this creature’s agility, that wasn’t a problem either.
    â€œYep,” the owner replied in her gravelly voice. “Always wanted a Newfie. No sissy-pants froufrou pup for me. Gimme a real dog.” The woman cocked her head sideways and looked Susan up and down. “So you’re the new doc. Not too sturdy on your feet, are you?”
    Susan resisted the urge to bristle, and instead pasted on a professionally pleasant expression. “Yes, I’m Dr. Jeffries.” She tentatively extended her fingers for the dog to sniff. “And I’ve already met Boomer. We’re going to get along fine, aren’t we, boy?”
    Boomer’s owner twisted her thin lips. “We’ll think on it.” She looped the leash once more around her hand before heading down the sidewalk. “C’mon, Boomer.”
    The pair marched toward the parking lot while the other lady stepped to her side.
    â€œDon’t worry about Edith. She’ll come around.” She gave a pleasant smile. “I’m Millie Richardson, your morning receptionist. Come on inside and I’ll get the lint roller.”
    Susan glanced down to find her white lab coat covered in black hair and fell into step behind the receptionist. Inside, Millie circled around the desk and rummaged in a drawer. She peeled off the outer paper of a lint roller to reveal a clean sticky layer and handed it to Susan, who began the cleanup process.
    She glanced around while she rolled. The waiting rooms were empty. Not a good sign.
    â€œIs it a slow morning?” she asked.
    â€œNot really. Doc’s in exam room one checking on a kitty with a vomiting problem, and Larry Greely’s waiting in room two with Bella.”
    Susan rolled the last piece of hair and returned the roller to Millie. “Bella?”
    â€œHis bird dog. Her first litter’s due in a few weeks, and he’s an anxious grandpa.” The woman’s grin was infectious, and Susan found herself smiling back.
    â€œMaybe I should go introduce myself.”
    She started toward the back, but Millie stepped in front of her on the pretext of swiping the roller at her left sleeve.
    â€œIt might be a good idea to let Doc introduce you.” She stepped back to examine her work, and then gave an apologetic shrug. “Doc and Larry are old friends.”
    Susan saw the logic in that and nodded. She was about to head for exam room one to be introduced to the owner of the feline with the intestinal problem when the door leading to the back opened. An elderly woman carrying a white longhaired cat emerged, followed by Dr. Forsythe.
    â€œYou try that trick with the can in his bowl. That’ll force him to eat slower.”
    â€œI will, Doc. Thank you.” She caught sight of Susan and interest flooded her features. “Is this the new veterinarian?”
    â€œIndeed it is.” Dr. Forsythe came forward with a welcoming smile to shake her hand. “Delores Barnes, allow me to introduce Dr. Susan Jeffries.” He stroked the back of the cat. “And this fine fellow is Arnold.”
    â€œHe’s named after my late husband, who detested cats.” Mrs. Barnes’ eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t allowed to have one until he passed. Now I have four.”
    Susan couldn’t come up with a safe answer, so instead she busied